Bleeding Rose

One by one, chocolate Nips candy were falling into Ms. Rose's mouth. I never thought she would eat food that was not her, especially from me. Of course, I didn't tell her they're mine. I wanted her to think that it was a gift from a normal stalker, not from one of her third-grade pupils.

Last day it was an orange-flavored lollipop and Ms. Rose, I forgot, was allergic to that. So she picked one in her English class to take the lollipop. Obviously, she chose me because she knew it was my favorite flavor.

After the last chocolate nip, she drank water and introduced us with a new lesson, which was to spell easy words with eight or more letters. I raised my left hand and Ms. Rose nod at me.

"Beautifully. B-e-a-o, sorry, b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l-l-y. Beautifully." Everyone was astonished, even the bullies. "Beautifully is an adjective and its root word is beautiful. Example: Ms. Rose teaches beautifully."

"Very good, " Ms. Rose was walking on the front of my desk, staring at me as though it was my first time to answer correctly. "But there's just a little mistake in your explanation. Beautifully is not an adjective, it is an adverb. Anyway, Luke, how did you know such a long word?"

"Last night, I asked my sister, Lara, for a word that can describe you, Ms. Rose."

Ms. Rose smiled with her eyebrows rising. She placed her hand on my desk and her face near my face. Luckily the recess bell rang so I ran outside, as fast as my little feet could go. On my way to the swing on the playground, where I usually eat my snack, I tripped over my own foot. Then a big hand held me up.

The man that helped me was Mr. Troy, the only man in the world that I hate, aside from Kirby(the default enemy in this school).

Why did I hate him? Because he was good - too good - and every pupil liked him. And he was Ms. Rose's boyfriend.

Mr. Troy gave me a tap on the shoulder. "Be careful, boy."

I could not see my own face but I could tell it was as angry as my feelings. And I didn't expect what I said, "I saw Ms. Rose with another man last night."

"What?" his face was pale. I thought he would not believe it. "With who?"

Before I could open my mouth, Ms. Rose appeared from his back. She told Mr. Troy that I was very good today and invited him to her classroom for a special snack.

My parents told me not to eavesdrop on any private conversation. But I still did it.

For the first time, I saw Ms. Rose closing her classroom door and windows. Her face was as pale as Mr. Troy. I ran to the back of the room and leaned my ear on the middle window.

"A child never lies about these things, Rose. You know it". Mr. Troy's voice was fierce but almost sounded like a whisper. "Does he? Does he?!"

I didn't hear a reply from Ms. Rose. I could only hear a very sad cry.

"I can't take this anymore," for the first time, Mr. Troy was in tears. "To end this, I would like us to..."

I didn't finish hearing their fight. When the bell rang again, all pupils under Ms. Rose were told to go home because of personal reasons.

That night, I was removing all the thorns covering the red rose I found under my sister's bed when my mother, who was cooking all-vegetable dinner, called my name.

It was my own game to guess what would my mother tell me. Based on today's general observation my three guesses were: "Did you stole your sister's rose?", "Please do your assignments before eating your dinner.", and, commonly, "How are you today, Luke?"

None of my guesses was correct.

Only my name was called, but my father and my sister were also there. Maybe because it sounded important. If it was a good news, my father would hug me, if it was not so good news, my sister would make a face at me.

Like every host in any competition, my mother's face was steady, I mean, half okay half not okay. My sister's face was the same as my mother, but my father's face was same as me, we're both puzzled.

"Luke, your teacher, and her boyfriend will never be girlfriends and boyfriends ever again, and it is because of you", my mother was about to cry, "Because next month, they will be married, and they invited all of us."

My mother and my sister hugged each other. I knew I was just a kid, but my heart was aching like someone was pulling it out.

My room was deadly silent and my family was in the kitchen. So I decided to do what a normal broken-hearted person would do. I turned off the lights and cried myself to sleep.